A Century Too Late
by Expecto-Prongs
Summary: A century after Bad Wolf Bay, the Doctor discovers Rose and his meta-crisis had a child. A part time lord, part human, part time vortex child. In other words? Bad Wolf.
1. Chapter 1

_He was his tenth generation again, looking his duplicate in the eye on the beach of an alternate dimension. He conveyed pain, love and just a touch of threat in his gaze, and his doppelganger seemed to understand what he was trying to tell him without words._

_'Take care of our Rose,' the Doctor thought savagely. 'And if you hurt her…'_

_His duplicate turned away from the Time Lord's hardening glare, looking instead upon the object of both of their desires, the amazing Rose Tyler, the girl who changed a time hardened time traveler for the better. The girl who absorbed the Time Vortex in order to save the universe… in order to save _him.

_The Doctor was light headed from his recent successes and failures: the saving of the universe, the avoidance of his regeneration, Rose Tyler, Meta-Crisis, genocide, returned planets, Doctor Donna (his best mate, destined to forget him). He looked up from the sand and met the intense gaze of Rose, sweet Rose, begging him not to leave her. He took a step back. She looked like she was going to burst into tears._

_The question._

_Rose stared desperately at the both of them, so alike and so very different. He longed to say it, his very being screamed at him to tell her, he wanted to stay with his Rose, but he stoically met her gaze._

_'Does it need saying?' And he looked down, it was too late, his hearts broke as he watched his double lean down to whisper the words he so desperately wanted to tell her, all this time._

_'I love you.'_

_They kissed. And the Doctor's hearts broke a little more. They broke apart, both blankly staring at the Time Lord._

_'Bad Wolf.'_

The Doctor awoke from the dream, hearts pounding and breath hitching in his lungs, refusing to regulate. He hadn't had dreams about Bad Wolf Bay since his last regeneration, his tenth. They still affect him now as much as back then, apparently.

He let the soothing hum of the TARDIS calm him and focused on his breathing… in, out, in, out. He silently thanked any deity he could think of the Amy and Rory weren't there to see this. He had to maintain a strong front whenever he had companions in the TARDIS; after all, they put their lives in his hands. The last thing they want to see is a weak sniveling Time Lord with nightmares. Except maybe Donna… but Donna was gone, she doesn't even remember him. So he was alone.

It was strange how that nightmare had ended; usually he would sail off into space, leaving Rose and his duplicate behind. He would then be faced with more heartbreak as he watched Donna short circuit before his eyes, forcing him to wipe any memory of him. This time it had ended quite abruptly. 'Bad Wolf.' The end of the universe.

He got up slowly, still a bit disoriented from the baffling and unwelcome dream. He rubbed his unruly hair, making it stick up even more than it already was. _Amy would have laughed, _he thought morosely. He was already dismissing his dream; he had far too many dreams in his lifetime to dwell on each one.

After what seemed like hours, he stood up and made his way to one of the bathrooms. He ran a comb through his hair and splashed water on his face. Even if no one had lived on the TARDIS with him for many years, he still tried to look presentable at least in case someone needed a lift. He was going to get around to picking up a companion, he _was. _But something always got in the way of the search… it was as if something wanted him to be alone. He heaved a sigh. He didn't want to be alone…

Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched to the side, throwing him into the wall of his bathroom. He staggered up off the floor and made his way back into the main console. The TARDIS screeched horribly, something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"What's wrong Sexy?" the Doctor asked while racing around. He took out a stethoscope from a drawer in the console and held it up to a random piece of machinery. All he heard was the ragged squealing of a very unhappy TARDIS. He put down the instrument and ran to the opposite side, hitting random buttons with a mallet. Nothing helped. Finally, the TARDIS stopped. Just stopped. The lights flickered but ultimately stayed on. All was silent. It was wrong.

The Doctor stood very still, as to not upset any balance that he just didn't sense. Everything was still, and the Time Lord closed his eyes and strained his ears. There was a persistent sucking noise, as if someone were slurping noodles. It didn't belong on his TARDIS, and it didn't sound particularly friendly. So with finality, the Doctor brandished his sonic screwdriver and flicked through the settings. The sucking grew louder and louder before ending with a final pop. The Doctor moved quietly towards the source of the noise, still pointing his screwdriver in front of him. What he saw was, well, not what he expected.

It was a teenager. Or, more accurately, _he _was a teenager. He looked about fifteen years old, and quite remarkably, not surprised to be on a huge spaceship. The boy was wearing black slacks, a button up shirt with a black vest, and a fedora.

"Ah, sir!" The voice called out, sounding _way _too authoritative for a teenager. "I'm going to have to ask you to put down the sonic device!"  
The TARDIS groaned in protest.

"Sh…" the boy shushed, patting the walls. The TARDIS lurched in response. The teenager sighed.

"What are you doing?" spluttered the Time Lord. "She obviously doesn't like you, you should stop touching the thing keeping us suspended in the Time Vortex lest we fall to our doom!"

The boy ignored him. He pulled an ID out of an inner pocket in his coat. He showed it in the air before pocketing it again. The time traveler narrowed his eyes.  
"Edwin Goshawk of the Department of Transportation, I just need-"

"No, I know psychic paper when I see it. Who are you really, and how did you get on my TARDIS?"

"Ah, so you admit it's a TARDIS? I'm going to have to confiscate it, seeing as it's the last of its kind, the rest being consumed by a sentient energy core known as 'House'." Was that bitterness in his voice? "Unless you are a Time Lord, which I highly doubt, you have illegally acquired this vessel and therefore I need to take it off your hands."

"Well it looks like I'm in luck, because I happen to be a Time Lord." The boy's eyes widened fractionally.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to reject that statement, Space Boy." The Doctor froze momentarily at the familiar nick name. The boy continued, unfazed. "The last Time Lord, the Doctor, was killed by River Song." The Doctor took a step towards the teenager.

"Let me explain…"

"Stop!" the boy drew a gun. Belatedly, the Doctor remembered he never put his sonic screwdriver away, and he was now pointing it quite threateningly at the boy. "I have this hooked up to a Vortex Manipulator. One step closer and I'll send you back to 1911 Earth."

"That's a dummy on your wrist; you couldn't go two feet in front of you with that, let alone send me to a different planet." The boy fired at a wrench that was lying on the ground, which vanished with the same sucking noise the boy had arrived in. The TARDIS keened loudly and shook unhappily. "Impossible," the Time Lord whispered. He walked over to where the tool used to be and felt around it with his hand, which tingled strangely.

Using the time traveler's distraction, the boy walked towards the main console and placed his hand on the middle of it. He closed his eyes and stood there. The TARDIS quieted unnaturally again, and the lights flickered menacingly.

"What are you doing?!" the Doctor bellowed. He raced towards the intruder and wrenched his hand away from his beloved machine. The boy looked up with awe and a bit of fear at the Doctor.

"You are the Doctor…" he gasped. "Doctor… Bad Wolf…" and with that, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

**Hm… experimenting with the Doctor Who fandom. This will make sense later, I promise. Maybe. HAHAHA**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, not a particularly popular story of mine, doesn't make much sense, but it's damn fun to write.**

**News: For those waiting on Harry Potter and the Soul Sense... I wrote a chapter... but it was horrible. Pure crap. I deleted it. For those waiting for Unburied... Um... That's what I'm updating next, so shush. I'm working on it.  
**

**Chapter 2**

_The soldier is bailing out_

_He curled his lips on the barrel_

_And I don't know if the dead can talk_

_To anyone_

The Doctor crouched on the ground, the mysterious boy still cradled in his arms, unconscious. He looked pale and thin, large bags lingering under his eyes, not especially healthy. The Doctor flicked on his sonic and waved it over the still figure, checking the readings habitually. Underweight and exhausted, but nothing necessarily dangerous. He softly shifted the boy so that he lay on the ground and got up to stretch his legs. The TARDIS made an unhappy humming noise around him.

_Oh, that's right… the TARDIS doesn't like him… _and why was that exactly? He looked down at the still form below him. Something seemed uncomfortably familiar about him, but he just couldn't seem to put a finger on it. One thing was for sure, the teen seemed surprised that he was in fact alive. Very strange. Nothing was adding up at all, and that generally led to complicated problems that took a lot of energy to deal with. He sighed and began to pace.

After about an hour of his thoughts running away with him, the unwanted guest began to stir.

"Wha- uhrnm-" he moaned unintelligently. The Doctor strode over to where the teenager was beginning to sit up and leaned down awkwardly. His wayward hair flipped into his face and tickled his nose. He brushed it aside impatiently.

"Ah! Yes, you're awake," he said uncertainly, wringing his hands behind his back.

"Doctor? How long was I out?" He was recovering remarkably quickly, already standing and starting to move about. He steered clear of the console, likely uncomfortable with the TARDIS's unfavorable reaction to his presence. "Please tell me it wasn't more than a day, it's always such a waste of time to be lying about that long…" he rubbed his head and turned towards the gaping Time Lord. "Doctor?"

"Just an hour." The boy gave a silent sigh of relief and then looked bemusedly at the Doctor.

"Well? I'm assuming you have questions…? Maybe not, but I think you might." The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but the boy talked over him. "Since I don't know you very well, I'll give you the Crossroads Etiquette, you ask me five questions, and if I don't deem it necessary to answer one, you get two more. Deal?"

"Crossroads Etiquette… isn't that from 56th Century Franzian Culture?" the boy's mouth quirked into a smile.

"Yeah, it is. You're familiar with the culture? It's a nice place, very structured, easy on refugees and fugitives." His smile became a bit grim there. "They don't push if you don't want to tell… it's actually quite refreshing." The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he processed the information. He filed it away for later.

"Alright!" he chirped, almost too brightly. "It's a deal then. Since it's my vessel, I don't feel obligated to return the favor, is that suitable?"

"Yeah, fine, let's just get this over with."

The Doctor thought for a moment, and then decided on social pleasantries. It was only polite, after all, and he didn't want to make too bad of an impression.

"What's your name, for one?"

"My real name isn't Edwin Goshawk, though it is a favorite of mine to throw about. My real name is Robin Noble Tyler, though most just call me Meta." He smiled softly, waiting for the information to catch up with the Doctor.

The Doctor gasped sharply, his hearts beating quickly. Meta looked at him patiently, giving him time to process the information. Noble? As in Donna Noble? Tyler… that couldn't refer to Rose Tyler, could it? He swallowed around a lump in his throat and asked his second question.

"Forgive me for prying," he rambled aimlessly, "but when you say 'Noble', 'Tyler' and 'Meta' I can't help but think of some friends of mine…" he took a deep breath. "Who are your parents?"

The boy sighed deeply, a sad smile playing across his face. It didn't reach his eyes however, and the Doctor noticed an infinite sadness he often noticed in his own reflection in the mirror.

"My parents are Rose Tyler and your Meta-crisis, who goes by John Smith."

A small choking noise made it past the Doctor's lips unbidden, but he didn't notice. He was too busy looking deep into Robin's eyes, scanning his visage. He had his tenth generation's hair and face, if you looked closely, and Rose's eyes and mouth. He was surprised he didn't recognize it before. He supposed it was the fedora hiding his hair and shadowing his face. And maybe the fact that he appeared on the TARDIS even though it's supposedly impossible.

"-look a lot different than my dad, which generation is this for you? I suppose it's the eleventh right? I mean it hasn't been that long since-" Meta was nervously fiddling with his hat, filling in the silence while the Doctor sorted through all of his thoughts. The teen was worrying his lip and talking at the speed of light, a trait he had obviously inherited from his father.

"This is my eleventh generation, actually," the Doctor reentered abruptly, cutting off the boy's endless flow of words.

"Yeah… yes, well, that's was I thought." There was an awkward pause before the Doctor asked his next question.

"How are they? Rose and the… Meta-crisis, I mean." It still felt awkward to call him by anything other than that, the name John Smith drudged up too many hard memories he didn't want to face at the moment.

"They're dead." All traces of nervousness, amusement and even sadness had left Meta's face. It was a blank slate, and honestly, that was the most unnerving thing it could have been. His eyes were swirling, full of emotion that was absent from his face. His shoulders hunched and he curled imperceptibly into himself. The Doctor barely noticed, because inside, he was breaking, screaming. His eyes misted over, everything was blurry, his mouth was dry and hearts pounding. He was angry and sad and confused.

"Dead? Dead- how is that- how long? How long have they been…" he couldn't finish, but the intent was clear.

Meta's face remained blank.

"Seventy five years."

"How did they die." He was calm, too calm, it wasn't right, he wanted to scream and punch and-

"Take two." He wanted to protest, it wasn't fair, he had a right to know what happened… but one look on Meta's face told him not to push it. He had agreed to the rules, so he had to abide by them. In Franzian culture, not respecting the Crossroads Etiquette could get you kicked out of houses, sometimes even banished from the planet. So, the Doctor swallowed the bile threatening to creep up his throat and changed gears.

"How old are you?" his voice shook a little, but not as much as it could have.

"Closing up on a hundred years now, my first century. Sometimes, when I hear when you're almost a thousand years old, I wonder how you make it… I'm already so tired, and I'm only a hundred. It's so _hard._" That couldn't be right, the boy looked barely fifteen.

"How is that… possible? That should be impossible, not possible. Wrong, wrong, wrong! This is not right!" The Doctor stepped towards the wary boy, waving his sonic manically around him.

"Doctor," the boy said tiredly. "I'm part human, part Time Lord, hell, I'm part Time Vortex for God's sake. That's why the TARDIS doesn't like me, I'm practically brethren, it doesn't feel right to her. She's made to mend and avoid wounds in Time, and here I am, a walking, talking infection! When Rose swallowed the Time Vortex, it changed her. You took all of the energy so she didn't combust, but there would always be a part of it in her. Combined with the Time Lord genes your Meta-crisis passed to me, something new was born! That's how I sent that wrench back to 1911 Earth, I manipulated the Time Vortex."

The Doctor's mouth opened and closed, how could he be so stupid? Why would he ever leave a part Time Lord, part human meta-crisis with the girl who swallowed the Time Vortex? That was just _asking _for trouble.

"I only have one heart, but it beats faster than a human heart. Great for moving about, not so great for avoiding being poisoned. I regenerate every twenty five years, I don't change form, I just de-age to about 10 years old… over and over and over again. I can die; I can't just regenerate on a whim. But, if I have help, I can be guided into a healing trance. I don't do telepathy, but I do have an intimate relationship with the Time Vortex. She sees me as her son, so she protects me as such. Goditfeelsgoodtogetthatallof fmychest."

This was even worse than Captain Jack. This was never meant to happen. The Time Vortex was _not _sentient, it didn't have emotions, things don't WORK like that. All that came out of the Doctor's mouth was:

"What."

**Questions? Comments? Difficulties? Please Review. Btw, meh. No beta. Not here, or on any of my stories. :P**

**Also: META AND ROBIN ARE THE SAME PERSON just in case you were confused...  
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**Song? The High Road by Broken Bells  
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